


The Story of Sherlock

by cassius23



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: Blog, Gen, John Watson - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, sherlock fan art, sherlock fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassius23/pseuds/cassius23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the TV series Sherlock, played on BBC 1, this includes characters from the series and my O.C.  The Header is inspired by John Watson's blog, which I thought would be a nice way to decorate the story.  Like the TV show, my story includes murder mystery's that Sherlock loves to solve but unbeknown to him, feelings begin to form for someone who he hardly knows.  My O.C is a mix between Irene Adler and myself, so this is might make it easier for Sherlock.  This is my first time using this website so I apologize if there is any wrong information that I have used in my tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of Sherlock

                      

 

 

The Woman with No Name

She sat curled up in a ball; eyes gazed on the laptop screen, reading a blog, John Watson’s blog.  Every word she read made her stomach flutter.  She sank back under her blanket, blowing on her caramel latte cuddling up to her pillows.  In mid scroll, she stopped and stared at the screen. She slowly gasped, “looks like Mr. Holmes is coming to my home town...” she released her breath.  A man had gone missing 2 days ago.  He lived 2 doors down, she knew him very well, and Sherlock was coming to investigate.  She smiled slurping her latte, her stomach was upside down.

 ****

The icy winter’s air was fresh on her face as she stepped out her door.  She wore a long brown handcrafted woolly coat, with a furry collar complimenting her waist and chest.  She looked to her right, there as she expected a police car and crime banners 2 doors down.  As soon as Sherlock and John stepped out from the scene of the investigation she started walking briskly towards their direction, looking purposely down at her phone to avoid eye contact.  Sherlock, talking too much to John had distracted him from his surroundings and before he knew it he was on the floor.  She deliberately bumped into him knocking him off his feet; “I’m so sorry” she apologised to Sherlock as he helped her up.  They touched only for a second, and electricity pulsed from her into him.  He looked at her holding her arm eyes locked on hers,  
“Ridiculous” he muttered shaking off the nonsense that had just happened.  
“Excuse me?” Asked the girl.  Sherlock shook his head, “I said are you ok?” He asked.  She looked at him oddly,  
“You’re Mr. Holmes” she whispered resting her hand on his firm chest leaning closer breathing him in.  Hypnotised by her aura he stood for a moment to catch his breath.  “I thought I could smell you” she continued.  She stepped back, “Well Mr. Holmes, it’s been a pleasure.” She looked at John, “Watson” she smiled and walked off.  “I will be seeing you again” she waved.  John looked at Sherlock confused,  
“Do you know that girl?” Asked John.  
“Never met her in my life” answered Sherlock.  He turned briskly and continued to walk, John quickly followed him,  
“Well it sure looked like she knew you... and very well.”  
“Hmph, so it would seem” said Sherlock.  The girl walked briskly around the corner and sat on the park bench.  She breathed in deeply, with a million butterflies trying to escape from her stomach. ‘I can’t believe I _touched_ , Mr. Sherlock Holmes!’ She whispered.  Reaching in her pocket she took out a mobile, but not her mobile.  
  
The day grew shorter with the sun almost disappearing, Sherlock and Watson sat down in their small flat, thinking.  “The man has been missing for 2 days, no witnesses no evidence” sighed John.  
“Indeed” agreed Sherlock.  He paused for a moment.  “Popping out” said Sherlock grabbing his long black coat and scarf as he made his exit “won’t be long.”  
“Wha... wait where you going?” Stuttered John.  
“To visit an _old_ friend” he replied running down the stairs.

 An hour later, Sherlock stepped out the cab and arrived at a door.  He stood for a brief moment before he knocked 3 times on the door, but no answer.  He tried the door knob, it was open.  He slowly looked around the, organised, clean quaint little flat.  
“I thought I smelt you” said a voice as he approached the lounge.  He found her sitting there on the couch in front of the fire.  
“This is not a visit, but to claim something of mine” he stated.  She got up, wearing a tight classy black dress revealing her dragon tattoo on her right shoulder, and her long pink hair flowing over her breasts.  Sherlock swallowed, this was not like him to lose concentration.  She walked slowly towards him and pressed herself against his tall physique.  He blushed a little trying hard not to lose his head.  She stepped back and held his phone up as she casually stood relaxed. “I think you lost this” she smirked.  
“Ah yes I would like it back please” he said reaching his hand out.  
“And what if I don’t give you it, Mr. Holmes” she teased.  
“Then I would have to get it back myself” he exclaimed, “stop playing games” he muttered.  
“Oh, really” she said and walked towards him again, leaning up against his ear, she grabbed his wrist feeling his pulse pumping faster, “show me” she whispered.  Sherlock grabbed her hand and leant further into her looking down at her glowing aroma.  “I know you from somewhere” he spoke as he leant closer with their faces breathing on each other.  Her mouth opened slightly, her heart racing, her cheeks on fire as he got so close that lips could touch.  He gently spoke back into her ear, as she closed her eyes to hear his sweet voice “I know what you’re trying to do”.  She opened her eyes with a slight gasp, but he was gone.  She looked down at her hand and gazed at his phone, “why didn’t he take his phone?” She pondered.  _Was this a dream? Did that just happen?_   She raced upstairs to her laptop to see the blog, but there were no updates.  She peered out the window, “it will have taken him over an hour to get here... and he came all that way just to try and figure me out...”

 ****

 Sherlock played his violin in front of his window.  John walked in the room,  
“So, what did she say?” Asked John knowingly.  Sherlock kept playing the violin. “Right...” said John gently swinging his arms by his side, “well, I’m off... I have a date” he finished and made his exit.  Sherlock peered out the window watching John pull away in a cab.  He stopped in mid note, placed his violin down neatly before he grabbed his coat and scarf.  He met Ms Hudson at his door,  
“Oh Sherlock, there’s someone here for you” she said, “This is the seventh time today the door bell has rang...” she muttered shaking her head.  
“Seven?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.  He raced down stairs so fast his lanky legs could have almost skipped two steps.  He opened the door, “ah, the person I was expecting” he greeted. He shut the door leaning into her making her lean back on the banister.  The electricity flew from her into him, “shall we?” he continued, they stared at each other for a brief moment before he walked away.  He gave a sarcastic smirk and turned swiftly fastening his coat and straightening his scarf.  She elegantly followed him.   
“Where are we going?” She questioned,  
“How well did you know Mark Sheppard?” He asked bluntly,  
“Well enough...”  
“When did you see him last?”  
“Friday, why?”  
“He has been missing for 2 days.” Sherlock looked down at her for a reaction.  Her eyes hid the answers.   Sherlock grabbed her arm and pushed her gently against a wall, his arm rested on the cold brick as he leant into her.  She blushed, her eyes fixed on his. “Tell me what you know” his voice raised,  “your face never froze, your eyes did not dilate, or even blink, which means it is not the first time you have heard this news, so tell me what do you know!” He released the wall but still hovered over her.  
“Okay!” She snapped.  Her eyes watered slightly as she began to explain.  “It was 2 days ago I seen him in the shop, he seemed agitated and in a hurry to get somewhere.  I work at the frame shop in the industrial estate and he is one of our regulars” she explained.  
“And what did he buy?”  
“A frame” she teased.  
“Yes thank you for stating the obvious, what type of frame?” He asked impatiently.  He began to pace back and forth.  
“A gold frame, decorated with leaves” she answered quickly.  
“What was the size?”  
“30cm by 30cm” she sighed.  Sherlock stopped in mid pace,  
“A perfectly square frame, but why?” His mind raced through explanations, questions towards the unknown.  He started to walk off continuing his mission.  The girl followed him instantly,  
“Where are we going?”  
“Oh you’re not so tough now, where has your little act gone?  Trying to impress me?” He stopped again to face her.  The moonlight highlighted her eyes; she smiled up at him from under her long lashes,  
“Yes but you came back” she whispered weakening him.  He quickly shrugged it off,  
“If you hadn’t stolen my phone, then I wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation”  
“Oh I very much doubt that Mr. Holmes, come now, we have an investigation to solve!” She prompted and walked away,  
“We?” Questioned Sherlock, “when was it _we_?”  
“From the moment you asked me about Mark. Come now, we can’t be late, or you will have to keep me warm...” she flirted and continued to walk making Sherlock watch her before he caught up. 

 They reached a small park, with a pond in the middle lit up by street lights.  The stars glistened in the dark winter’s sky.  
“He was last seen here” he pondered “but there is no evidence in his flat.”   
“Hmph, maybe you didn’t look in the right place” she said looking into the water.  There, at the bottom of the pond was a body.  Sherlock looked at her with suspicion, “it wasn’t me” she stated.  
“But you knew straight away where the victim’s body was... maybe your hiding more than you think” he glared at her.  She giggled,  
“Or maybe, the almighty Sherlock didn’t think to look in the water?”  
“Hmph, for once, you might be right about _something_ ” he snapped. “If the body was found in the water, then someone must have made us think that he kept walking through this park, of course!” He started pacing back and forth ecstatically, “how could I be so stupid! There was no evidence in his house because the crime did not start there! It started at the frame shop, where he carried the frame to meet someone in this park.  _But why?_ The suspect then took what he wanted from him and pushed him in the pond which would have been so cold he would have frozen to death, but the question is, _why_ did he sink for a man his size? And the pond being only 10 foot he could have swam and climbed out...” he rambled.  “Now would be a good time to give me my phone back” he demanded.  
“Of course, but I don’t have it!” She smiled.  
“Arg woman!” He yelled and walked towards her, eyes locked onto hers he put his hands in her pocket and gently reached for her phone, his face expression stern, he turned away and unlocked her phone.  A photo of him wearing his hat appeared on the background image.  He glared at her, “I knew I had seen you somewhere before” he sneered.  
“You stared right at me when I took that photo” she said softly.  
“So it was you who published that photo! I should have known.”  He punched a number in the mobile and spoke into it, “I have something for you” he declared.

 10 minutes later Inspector Lestrade appeared at the scene with John.  The body was taken to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital,  
“So who’s your girlfriend?” Asked Lestrade.  Sherlock glared at Lestrade,  
“An old friend...” he answered him sarcastically as he peered over at the girl who was stood talking to John.  
“So how do you know Sherlock?” Asked John.  
“Oh, we go way back” she mocked with a crooked smile.  
“So erm...” but before John could finish Sherlock interrupted,  
“So your date was Lestrade was it?” He blurted.  Before John could answer, Sherlock interrupted again, “that was defiantly Skinner.”  He continued quickly.  His wavy head of black hair shimmered under the moon light, his deep stare sent tingles all over her body, he was most certainly tall dark and handsome.  She knew John was about to chat her up that is why he came rushing over.  She gave him a secret smile when Sherlock glanced her way,  
“Well, again it has been a pleasure.  I shall let you both continue with this mess.  Let me know if you find the suspect” she smiled politely.  She gave one last smile to Sherlock and disappeared in the shadows.  John looked confused,  
“She can’t just leave the scene?  Doesn’t she have answers? Sherlock?” he pestered.  Sherlock gave John a mischievous grin,  
“I leave crime scenes all the time.” He said smugly.  John smiled at him shaking his head as he followed Sherlock.  

Sherlock and Watson arrived at the hospital to see what Molly had to say about the corpse,  
“I found gold pigments under his fingernails” explained Molly blushing slightly at Sherlock.  
“That would be from the frame he was carrying” answered Sherlock.  
“Frame? What frame?” Asked John in confusion.  “What else did she tell you?”  
“She?” Asked Molly in desperation. “ _Who’s she?_ ”  
“Will everyone just please stop!” Yelled Sherlock, “There are too many voices in the room.” A hush fell tensely in the atmosphere.  Sherlock breathed in, his deep, English tone brushed off his lips,  
“He panicked.  The person who pushed Mr. Skinner took him by surprise once he got pushed over; he panicked, tripped, fell into the pond.  The freezing water hit him so hard he had no time to calm down and catch his breath so he swallowed the water filling his lungs which made him sink.  Water becomes heavier when it is frozen or below freezing.” Explained Sherlock.  “He was carrying a perfectly squared gold frame, 30 x 30cm to be precise, decorated with golden leaves.  She said he bought it in a hurry, so the man who pushed him, desperately needed that frame.”  
“She?” Quizzed Molly.  
“How is there gold debris under his finger nails you ask? Good question.  The frame would have been the last object he could grab before he fell, scratching the surface leaving gold fragments under his fingernails.” He stood smugly for a moment.  His eyes sparkled with ecstasy “Molly, could you give me a sample of the gold, I would like to examine it in the lab” he asked.  John was a bit lost for words.  He rushed beside Sherlock who was already making his exit,  
“You enjoying this I see” murmured John.  
“Indeed” smirked Sherlock.  He glanced at John and they both started to giggle.

 The night grew later.  Sherlock sat in the lab examining the gold through the microscope.  John sat with him,  
“Anything?”  Asked John.  
“Yes.  The frame is a fake.  I have found a metal substance mixed with the pigments.  The man who has taken it must know this.  This frame is familiar to him, he must have had it before but lost it, and now he has it back he is willing to use it for a reason.” Explained Sherlock.  He sat back and looked at John.  There was a quiet moment.  John’s phone vibrated before ringing making John jump which made Sherlock jump.  Sherlock looked at John with confusion before he continued to look down his microscope.  
“Oh ok! We’re on our way!” Spoke out John then hung up.  “The Police Station! They have the killer!”  They both grabbed their coats and ran out the hospital and got in the next cab,  
“To the Police Station please!” Ordered John.

Moments later, they arrived at the Police Station,  
“You!?” Said Sherlock as he burst in the door.  There she was, the woman with no name sitting in front of Lestrade’s desk.  
“And you to you too” she mocked as she stood up,  
“What do you want?” Asked Sherlock,  
“To give you in on the details of something you couldn’t give yourself” she sneered.  
“What details?” Interrupted John.  She stopped for a second and looked at them both while they were itching with anticipation, she smirked,  
“Why you smiling?” Asked Sherlock squinting his eyes,  
“Because I like to smile” She answered.  Her smile faded, “I got a phone call” she slowly continued, “he was in tears, he said he didn’t mean to” she said with a bit of a sob in her voice.  Her cheeks blushed a faded red, her eyes glistened with oncoming hidden tears, and she suddenly looked venerable.  Sherlock felt for her but didn’t want to show her.  Then decided to investigate why this woman made him weak, he shook the idea from his brain and faded back into reality.  
“Who didn’t mean to?” Asked John desperately.  
“His brother” she answered softly.  “He is a good friend to my father, and I know he would never do anything purposely to hurt anyone.” Sherlock turned around and made his way out the room, John rolled his eyes and followed him with her following John,  
“He must have answers!” Spoke Sherlock rushing down the stairs.  
“Sorry who?” Asked John,  
“The killer” answered Sherlock sternly.  They made their way to the prison cells.  They managed to sit down in the meeting hall to speak to the killer, James.  
“I did not murder him!” Whaled the man.  Tears rolled down his cheeks. “He... he was my brother” he continued crying.  He covered his face with his hands.  Sherlock looked at the man searching for evidence.  He had clean cut hair, his hands were soft and clean.  He looked in his mid 30’s,  
“So you pushed him over just for a gold frame? It must have been important to you? So important it was to _die_ for?” Interrogated Sherlock.  The man looked up at him in despair, shaking his head at him,  
“I didn’t...it was an accident” he pleaded almost losing his voice.  “I didn’t kill him...” he sobbed,  
“Then what happened!?” Shouted Sherlock impatiently slamming his hands on the table startling the man,  
“He, he slipped!  And fell into the water.  He grabbed my frame but he lost his grip.  He couldn’t swim that’s why he sunk!” He explained,  
“So why didn’t you jump in after him?” Asked Sherlock,  
“I panicked! I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t know how deep the water was I... I didn’t mean to” he whaled.  Sherlock stood up,  
“Thank you for your time” he said bluntly.  He made his exit and met up with John and the girl.   
“He was a photographer, spent allot of time in the dark room, I could see the splash back from the dyes on his clothes.  His hands being soft he likes to keep them clean and moisturised after using the chemicals, as he constantly washed his hands.” Explained Sherlock, “he was telling the truth, no one can fake tears like that, unless they have a fake tear....thing...”  
“I knew it! He was always a softy! But to leave his brother like that! That was selfish of him!” Stated the girl.  
“Or purpose” replied Sherlock.  
“What?” She asked.  
“He could have left him there on purpose for a reason” replied Sherlock.   
“But how do you know that? You can’t just assume things now” blurted the girl.  Sherlock looked at her oddly, she continued, “look I have to go, it’s getting late and I have a few errands to run” she explained hastily and left before anyone could question her why.  John looked puzzled,  
“Did she ever tell you her name, Sherlock?” Asked John.  
“No and I don’t intend to find out” he said bluntly.  
“Maybe it is getting late, maybe we can continue this in the morning?” Suggested John.

 ****

In a white room, all was hazy but he was there, tall and dark, he looked at her, and lent in towards her.  Her palms sweating, her heart racing he kissed her, slowly, gently.  He let her go and he was gone.  Later in the streets of London they walked together.  He reached out his hand to hold hers.  He was in control. He turned to her again and held her cheek, and kissed her gently.  He was so gentle, so kind, so masculine... those eyes locked onto hers, but it drifted away by the singing of the alarm clock,  
“Oh...” she grumbled.  “Oh how I wish how that was real...” she sighed and snoozed back to sleep with a little smile painted on her lips.  Her phone buzzed startling her, Sherlock appeared on the screen.  She decided to let it ring and curl back under her covers.

“She’s not answering” Said Sherlock irritated.   
“Well we will just have to go to court without her” said John.  Sherlock hesitated but he had to agree with him,  
“Your right I don’t have time for time wasters” he said impatiently.  They made their way to court to see what the verdict was for Mark Sheppard.  Sherlock knew that the woman had further detail.  Half way through the court case Sherlock snuck out leaving John sitting there still making notes.  Sherlock arrived at her door and knocked on it.  There was no answer.  The door was locked this time.  He paced back and forth impatiently.  He paused, and looked around him.  He slyly reached in his pocket and took out a wire and started to pick the door lock.  In moments he was in.  He locked the door from inside and began to scout the house looking for clues.  He reached upstairs into her bedroom, she had photo frames of her family.  There was a photograph of her and her dad with Mark Sheppard standing next to him.  He squinted at the picture looking closer.  In the background was his brother, the killer, James, who had been hidden behind Mark and his expression, did not look pleased.  “Why was he angry?” Muttered Sherlock, he then looked around her room.  He found a scrapbook under her bed and looked through it.  Newspaper cuttings of Sherlock were stuck, and all the crimes he had achieved, were all stuck making a scrapbook.  The photo of him that she took was there too, but there was no trace of her job.  He was wrong, she took the photo but she was neither a publisher nor a photographer.  He flicked through more pages and something fell out.  It was an illustration of him.  The initials on the bottom were _M. J._  He was eager to find out her name.  He flicked through more pages until he stumbled upon a photograph of her when she was younger, about 8, and next to her, was _himself_.  His heart sank, and everything came flooding back, he sat on her bed and held his head in his hands.  His childhood summer friend, how did he forget about her?  He only thought he recognised her from when she took that photo that appeared in the papers.  He remembered, they were both in the forest looking for clues of why they had came across a dead rabbit and how she was helping him try to solve the mystery.  He remembered now, and though back then he wasn’t aware of it but now he realises, of how much she was in awe with him, how she called on him every day at summer camp, and how they would sneak off to go find mysteries to solve.  After summer camp was over they never seen each other after that.  The child in him was fighting to get out, to release his emotions, but for so long he had locked his inner child away burring his emotions deep down.  He needed no one for so long until he met John, John was his only friend.  For years he had walked alone, he needed no one, and he forgot everyone.  Only his brother, Mycroft, dug his way back into his life.  But now, he has a family, people who care about him, Ms Hudson and John.  He didn’t want to admit it but he cared for them, he was too proud to show emotions, too arrogant.  It was those eyes that he recognised when she bumped into him, “purposely, she bumped into me.  Why didn’t she get in contact? Maybe she knew how arrogant and self involved I would be... _bored_ I would be to think some stranger would be interested, but she wasn’t a stranger” he muttered to himself.  Sherlock shook his head, this was getting way off track.  He put everything back to its rightful place.  He came looking for answers not a trip down memory lane, he pondered. 

Meanwhile, the woman walked up to her doorstep.  She noticed the handle was slightly upright.  She put her ear on the door and heard footsteps approaching.  She walked back and quickly hid around the backstreet of the flats.  She hid behind her bins and there as she suspected, Sherlock climbing down the fire escape.  He looked around as he straightened himself up and disappeared around the corner.  
“You think you’re so clever Mr. Holmes” she whispered.  As soon as he was out of view, she pondered for a moment.  She stood up smoothing out her jacket.  She walked slowly back around the corner and bang, she walked into someone.  The figure held her balance for her.  She looked up,  
“Think you could outsmart me?” Said Sherlock.  She blushed,  
“A woman’s bedroom is her private life which you have trespassed” she said as she yanked her arm out of his grasp. “What do you want? _Answers?_ ” she stated.  “He was an old friend of my fathers.”  
“You’re hiding something else!” He snapped, “you must know something, did your father not ever speak of his friend?” He asked.  
“I remember there was a conversation he had on the phone with him, a few years ago.  He mentioned something about family air loom and money.  Maybe they were talking about the frame? I didn’t think anything of it really until now” she explained.  
“Air loom! Yes! That makes sense! Why didn’t you mention this before! The frame was a family air loom! James knew that if his brother died he would get the frame which he thinks is pure gold to sell for money!”  He bounced with excitement.  He grabbed her hand, which was very unlike him, “come” he said.  She blushed speechlessly as she gazed down at his hand and she returned to her past, this very moment had brought her back to them running in the woods when she had grabbed his hand to run from camp and into the woods.  She was back in reality as they stepped into the cab.  Sherlock was on the phone to Lestrad,  
“It was a family air loom! He let his brother die! He is guilty!” Yelled Sherlock. 

  
They both arrived at the Police Station and bumped into Lestrad and John who had just come back from Court.   
“How do you know?” Asked Lestrad.  
“The frame is a fake! James doesn’t know.  That’s why he left his brother to die, he wants to sell it, and take his money.”  Lestrade looked at John who nodded at him in agreement with Sherlock.  They all made their way to the Court where the verdict was still being decided.  Lestrade passed a note on to the Judge.  The Judge read the note and stamped his hammer.  He announced the new verdict and explained the details to the Jury.  James broke and pleaded guilty.  Sherlock smiled and made his exit with John.  But the _Miss M. J_ was nowhere to be seen.  
“So how did you find out it was a family air loom?” Asked John.  
“I went to visit an old friend, and I mean old this time” replied Sherlock.  
“I wonder why he turned himself in then” questioned John.  
“Guilt.  For a man to be so _kind and gentle_ he would have not slept a wink for the rest of his life so he turned himself in.  The truth would have eaten him up.” He explained.  
“Yup, we all do crazy things” agreed John.

 

 


End file.
